Friday, March 11, 2011
I woke this morning to the news of the earthquake in Japan. Since I was a child during the Alaskan earthquake, I have TERROR of earthquakes, and I tremble to know what those people are going through. And, although the shaking of the earth is bad enough (the feeling that something you depend on to be STILL, isn't), what comes after is worse. It's the aftershocks that wake you over and over in the night and the following days and send you frantically running for the door. It's the fear of broken gas lines and falling buildings. It's roads that have broken up so that they are impassable. It's no heat or light in the cold, dark winter. In the Alaskan quake, before the days of cell phones, it was hours or longer of not knowing where your loved ones were. It was melting snow for water and adding bleach to make sure it was safe. As a girl, I liked the no-school part and the eat-the-melting-ice-cream-for-dinner-and-breakfast part. But I was also old enough to listen to the radio broadcasting calls for lost relatives and know that some of those people would never be found. And then the waiting for the tidal wave and wondering if it would reach us or people we knew and what that would mean for us. I am a grandmother now. Many years have passed since that quake in Alaska (what I was reminded this morning was the second largest one of modern times), but I am still shaken--emotionally--when I hear news of these huge earthquakes and think of the people involved. I am reminded, again, of the fragility of life.
Posted by Debbie at 9:23 AM